She carried on up the stairs, again quietly surprised, and pleased, with his consideration and generosity. Entering the bedroom, she took off all her clothes and placed them on the bed. Opening the door of the small robe, she took out the kimono hanging on a padded hanger from the rail. He had not been kidding when he had said that it was wonderful. The ground was a rich and vibrant pink with flowers of white on brown and red stems dotted randomly on the fabric as though it were a portrait of a Spartan bush much like a rhododendron. She did not know the name of the plant but the flowers reminded of her of camellias, which were her mother's favourite English flower. They were always to be found on Sundays in the summer, in the two vases which her grandmother had left to her mother and which Chani's mother in turn had left to her, although Chani could never think of them as belonging to anyone else but her mother. She wrapped the Kimomo around her and padded barefoot across to the bathroom with her overnight bag.
As she ran the bath, the water cascading from the single spout as though it were Niagara Falls, she removed her make-up from the previous day in front of the mirror; something which she had not bothered to do the night before, too tired as she was. The mirror hung above a glass shelf on which stood the bottles and tubes of shower gel, shampoo, toothpaste, a safety razor with disposable twin blades and some pots of 'Sanctuary Mande Lular' bath crème and bath scrub. Would he mind her using some? He had said that all that she needed was already in the bathroom and, surely, if he would mind, he would have removed the pots. Unscrewing the pot lid to the bath crème, she scooped out a generous portion of the viscose fluid with her fingers and vigourously swirled it around the hot water; it started to foam. She rinsed her hands in the bath water and turned off the taps; the bath was already quite full.
Feeling the water with her elbow and finding that it was hot but bearable, she took some hair clips from her bag and clipped her short hair away from her face, took the bath scrub from the shelf and placed it within reach and lowered herself slowly into the water. Resting her head on the waterproof pillow that lay at one end of the bath, she stretched out. She was mildly surprised; her feet did not even come close to the other end of the bath. She did not think that it was possible to drown in a bath, unless one was completely drunk, she was, nonetheless, thankful that she could swim and that water, however deep, held no fear for her.
Relaxing into the scented water, she realised that she would have time for a good soak; Leo and Roy would be busy with the examination of Rory and her pups for a while. Her mind was not yet clear enough to gain any insight into the question most troubling her, the whistles and their strange attraction, and her thoughts ran back to the day before. How she had purposefully risen early; how she had put steel in her sinews, fire in her loins and courage in her heart; how she had nearly turned back home at breakfast in the 'Little Chef' service station, nearly three quarters of the way to his house; how only the concentration required of motorway driving had suppressed the fear that she had felt; the slow sinking feeling in her stomach when she heard his first angry response from the balcony; the pleasure she had felt at his slow, but inexorable, unshrouding of the man that she had once known all those years ago; the walk by the river; the risotto. Yes, she admitted to herself, it would have been nice to have had him hold her in his arms under the quilt once again, however impossible or unwise that might have been. However, the moment had, she thought, passed her by for a reason; a reason which was known only to the Fates. She was truly pleased, at least, that he did not seem to hate her or, at least, that he was an actor good enough to give that impression.
She unscrewed the lid of the bath scrub and, standing up, applied it all over her body; the ground walnuts shells taking off the dead skin cells with ease and making her skin more sensitive to the heat of the water when she resumed her earlier position, lying prone. She had been careful not to rub hard around the more sensitive areas of her body; she had learnt the ill-wisdom of that the first time that she had used such abrasive exfoliators. She ran the natural sponge, conveniently located on a shelf set into the tiled wall, repeatedly over her submerged body to remove the ground nutshells from her skin before stepping out of the bath onto the thick toweling bath mat which awaited her feet. Reaching over, she pulled the, by now, deliciously warm bath sheet to her and wrapped it about her, tucking the end of it into itself below the armpit. She toweled her arms and face dry with the smaller towel that hung from the same rail. She toweled the rest of body with the voluminous bath sheet and hung them both back on the rail. Naked, she used the shower head to rinse the bath and consign the remains of the walnut dust down the drain.
Satisfied that she was dry, she applied her facial moisturiser and then her make up; a thin layer of expensive Estée Lauder foundation cream, the anti-ageing lotion, one of her few extravagances; a hint of eye make, scarcely darker than her own skin tone; mascara, a little eye-liner and finally dark red, almost brown, lipstick. She took out her clothes from the overnight bag and dressed; underwear, baggy, comfortable for driving, trousers, a plain white, 'strappy' vest and a crew neck, cotton jumper and short socks. She brushed her short hair back and looked at herself in the mirror. She was quietly satisfied with what she saw for all that she was most decidedly the wrong side of fifty. Picking up her bag and the kimono, she left the bathroom, remarking to herself that she had not locked the door, and went into the bedroom once more.
Sitting on the bed, she drew on her sensible, driving shoes, straightened the quilt and puffed the pillows, neatly folded the clothes that he had loaned to her at the foot of the bed, packed her own dirty clothes in her bag and quietly closed the door behind her.
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